Snowflakes
by FadingWinter
Summary: Hermione is tired of waiting for Ron to open up to her. Come Christmas Day, when he finally manages to word his feelings, it's much more than Hermione expected. A oneshot RHr fluff fic.


Snowflakes

"I cannot believe you, Ron!"

"Hermione, she is my sister! She can't just parade around Hogsmede looking like that! Her dress-"

"- is perfectly acceptable! And now she is upstairs crying out of frustration, and Harry has been waiting downstairs for the past 15 minutes. She is sixteen for goodness sake!"

"But Hermione, I have no objection to her going with Harry, you know that, its just those other idiots who will gape at her..."

"Well, I know you don't have the faintest clue, but girls sometimes do like guys gaping at them! Those are the only times they consider them, when they look beautiful, isn't it? So that leaves some of us with absolute no chance, since you all are so shallow you can't see past physical beauty!" with that, Hermione turned around sharply and headed for the stairs to Ginny's room, leaving Ron in the middle of the Burrow's kitchen, a perplexed look on his face.

She ran the rest of the way to the room, slamming the door behind her. Why did nearly ever single night have to end with her and Ron shouting at each other? And at Christmas Eve too! But she had felt such an improvement recently, ever since her and Ron had been dating. He had been understanding (well, as understanding and sensitive as Ron could be, really) and they had had a great time together, especially this week in which she and Harry had come to The Burrow. She had been almost certain that Ron would declare his feelings for her in some way.

Ginny's sobs had died down, and she was sleeping of exhaustion, still in her green velvet dress robes. Hermione stroked her hair, looking down at her sadly. The poor girl had been waiting for tonight ever since she and Harry had decided to continue their relationship despite the dangers. Hermione knew if Ginny insisted, Ron would feel guilty and give in- but Ginny had been so infuriated when her brother stopped her that she had sworn never to forgive him for this. And when Ginny hates someone, she really knows how to make them feel bad. She obviously wanted this event to stay in Ron's guilty conscience.

Hermione did feel a little sorry for Ron then, because he loved his sister so much...but she herself was feeling too resentful towards him at the moment to care. She just felt bad that Ginny would be spending christmas eve night alone, Hermione didn't think she ever had before, since Ginny had a large family and a huge group of friends, unlike her.

She moved away from her and drew the hangings around Ginny's bed. Composing herself as much as she could, Hermione headed back down the stairs in the direction of the guest room in which she was staying.

Holding her head high, she marched across the kitchen and towards the rickety staircase on the left. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron get up and run to her. She felt her hopes rise.

"Hermione! Wait!" The tips of his ears went a little red, as did his face. "Look...um... I didn't mean to say anything bad... I only said I didn't want people gaping at her..."

Hermione's shoulders drooped. Of course, this wasn't about her.

Ron was still muttering. "...I mean, I- I wouldn't mind if Ginny went with that dress, I was just pointing out my... my opinion..." He noticed Hermione's sadness and tentatively put his hand on her shoulder. "I-I'm sorry Hermione. Look, this wasn't about you or anything. You are very important to me. I- I mean...uh... "

Hermione nodded, swallowing. He just couldn't get it out, whatever it was. She continued to walk towards her room.

Ron looked even more confused than before, and somewhat regretful. He turned around and walked out of the portrait hole, muttering something under his breath. It sounded like "If you even knew..."

_If only you would tell me, then I would know!_ She thought, and kept walking. So now she was the insensitive one? Oh but it was fine when he used to sit around permanently glued to Lavender's face... She spun around as she heard a desperate voice call her name.

"Hermione! There you are...where's Ginny? What's wrong with her?" Harry looked worried as he ran up to her.

She put a hand on the doorknob and turned to face him. "Why don't you ask Ron? I'm sure he'll give you a thorough explanation for reducing his sister to tears, then being completely inconsiderate to me!" She stomped up the stairs.

She knew she shouldn't have been so short-tempered with Harry, and even Ron for that matter...she had only felt frustrated because throughout the whole day they had been shopping in Diagon Alley, and Hermione had had to endure the disdainful looks Lavender shot her every time they passed on the street. But now, she felt guilty for it all. Ginny was spending Christmas Eve crying, Harry waiting for her down in the common room, Ron goodness knows where, and her, sitting alone on her bed.

_I'll make it up to them_, she thought. _I just need to calm down. _After all, they were her best friends, and they had gone through so much together. She let out a short laugh at how even facing Voldemort hadn't changed their bickering...well, bickering with Ron, most particularly. _But I've had enough of thinking about Ron and our useless fighting,_ she thought, slipping out of her school clothes and putting on a thin nightgown.

Hermione stood up, walking towards the large fireplace which the Weasley's had installed in every room since Mr. Weasley's transfer to another ministry department. She picked her book from the mantelpiece, walking towards the favorite spot in her room, where she usually sat after she had a hard day or felt a little depressed. It was a comfy armchair near her large window which looked out into the fields. As she stood peering out, she could just about make out the silhouette of Fleur and Bill, and the light of the windows spilling out onto the grass. She could hear the extremely loud music of Celestina Warbeck drifting from downstairs. The Weasley's were throwing a small Christmas party, but the twins were going to apparate with Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione to Hogsmede to join the celebration at the Three Broomsticks. It looked like they'd be two members short now.

She knew she'd never be able to sleep with all that noise, so laying her book aside and ignoring her armchair, she climbed onto the stone window ledge and gazed at the reflection of the moon on the lake's depths, but was interrupted with a knock on her door.

Hermione stayed where she was, wanting some privacy for once. There were three more knocks, and then footsteps going back down the stairs. She gazed at the stars now, twinkling mockingly at her. With a sigh, Hermione tore her gaze away and picking up her book, headed for her four-poster bed, thinking whether Ron would ever realize or care that she loved him so much. But it wasn't like the love she had for Harry or Ginny, this one was much worse, and the possibility of it being one-sided hurt so much.

As the clock on her table let out a swift chime, the hour and minute hands pointing directly upward, there was a roar from downstairs and then music started once more, louder than ever. She glanced at the clock and put her book down, settling into her covers and staring at the canopy of her bed. "Merry Christmas to me," she muttered desolately, leaning over and extinguishing the lights with a flick of her wand, leaving only the light of the flames casting long shadows on the walls.

---

'Ron! Ron? Where is he?'

'He wasn't down at breakfast, was he?'

'Come on Harry, he's probably out on the grounds, stop shouting...'

Hermione yawned wide and lifted her heavy eyelids, as the sounds which had woken her up drifting away. She sat up and stretched. It was Christmas!

But as soon as she remembered the situation between her and Ron the night before, her heart felt a little heavier in her chest, and instead of starting to open the pile of presents which had appeared on her table, she stood up slowly and washed her face with ice-cold water. Being miserable on Christmas always tripled the feeling as you saw others smiling and laughing around you.

Hermione looked up at her reflection morosely. _If Ron only looks for physical beauty then no way will he be attracted to me..._ she thought. And this had never been a problem with her up till now. _And it still isn't!_ She thought defiantly. If Ron wanted her, he needed to like her for herself. And if he really was as shallow and insensitive as he sometimes displayed, then he was welcome to have Lavender again or whatever brainless bimbo he wanted, and Hermione would not care less.

She gave a nod to her reflection and opened her wardrobe, picking something at random, and ending up with her baggiest brown pants and a loose beige sweater, paying as much attention to what she was putting on as she did to Quidditch matches.

Giving her bushy brown hair a quick brush, she gathered a muggle fantasy novel she had been reading and put it in her bag, then sat down next to her pile of presents, her eyes clouding over from staring too long without blinking.

She nudged a few boxes, recognizing Ginny's swirly writing, Harry's usual rectangle package with the books she needed, a soft floppy package from Mrs. Weasley containing the usual jumper, and many other boxes; from Hagrid, Viktor, her parents...yet there was something missing.

Hermione set each package aside one by one, yet it wasn't there. Surely Ron wouldn't forget to send her a Christmas present? Or maybe he hadn't forgotten- perhaps he was still hurt with her actions? But Ron had never held such a small argument like that against her, and had always made up. _In fact, I'm usually the one who doesn't forgive easily_, Hermione thought. But she had lovingly wrapped up a white marble chess set and levitated it last night to Ron's room all the same. Finally she stood up, rubbing her eyes hard.

Holding her head high, she marched out of her room, closing the door behind her and making a straight beeline for the garden, bidding a few "Merry Christmas's" on the way. After Hermione grabbed her cloak and stepped outside, she made a decision to drop her irritable mood. It was Christmas after all, and she didn't know how many more Christmases they would be able to share, now that the war was approaching. Erasing the thought of losing one of her friends before she started choking up, she forced a smile as she spotted Harry and Ginny in the garden.

"Merry Christmas!" she said, hugging them both, and accepting a red and green Hippogriff cookie Ginny held out to her.

Harry looked around worriedly. "Have you seen Ron? I haven't seen him since breakfast, and that was nearly an hour ago."

Something seemed to tighten in Hermione's chest. "Are you sure he hasn't gone down to the village? Or maybe he's just apparated to the twins shop?"

"Harry wasted the morning apparating to half of the world and back," said Ginny, rolling her eyes and pulling her scarf around her, "don't know why you bothered. He's most likely over at the Three Broomsticks, having his firewhisky and trying to look down Rosmerta's dress," she added scowling, obviously still extremely mad at him from the previous night.

Harry sighed and brushed snow off his shoulder. "Well, I sent Hedwig out to see where he is just the same."

Ginny sighed. "Please stop worrying Harry, it's Christmas!"

"Yeah, so Voldemort and that bitch Bellatrix take the day off, do they? Chill out for a while? Eat some Hippogriff cookies?" muttered Harry sarcastically. "One glance at the Prophet and at least three articles on a 'mysterious murder' jump out at you. Do you honestly think today will make a diff-"

"That's not funny. Not funny at all, Harry," Hermione said firmly, "Stop talking so lightly about these things."

"Well, I wish I could stop thinking about these things, full stop," mumbled Harry, throwing down a snowball half-heartedly and walking back towards the house.

Ginny frowned, watching him sadly. "I'd better go with him."

Hermione nodded, feeling her gloominess return.

Taking out her wand, she melted a way through the pure white field behind the house, not really paying attention to where she was going. Mrs. Weasley's shouts and the twins' laughter poured out from the direction of the house, but the sound was faint and distant. Hermione sighed softly, remembering how she adored snow as a child, since it made the world seem so silent and serene for once. It had a quick effect on her even now, as she felt some of the ache in her heart dull a little, even though it was still there.

Closing her eyes, she stood still and threw her head back, growing calm as she felt the snowflakes tickling her face and the wind dying down to a whisper.

When she almost felt like she could doze off standing, Hermione gave her head a little shake, and started wandering further out into the field, in the direction of a huge, solitary tree, its branches heavily weighed down with snow.

As she walked closer and closer, through the blur of thick snowflakes, she could make out the shape of a tall person, pacing under the tree, gesturing wildly to mid-air. Hermione let out a disappointed sigh as her hopes of being alone went out the window, but she kept walking towards the tree all the same.

Wiping droplets of snow off her eyelashes, she frowned slightly as she watched the person, still talking to the air, who hadn't noticed her approach. Of the person's face, she could slowly make out a tuft of red hair poking out of a wooly hat, and a long nose.

"Ron?"

Ron turned around so fast that he slipped and fell with a soft thump into a thick pile of snow under the tree. "Mermmiiffomii!"

Rushing forward to pull him out of the mound, Hermione helped him up and wiped strands of wet hair from her eyes. "Hermione!" Ron repeated, "I...you...I mean... surprised me..."

"Sorry. Merry Christmas, by the way," Hermione said, her tone a little stiff, remembering the lack of a present from him. They walked towards the huge tree trunk and sat down after Hermione's quick wand work for a heating charm.

"You too. Thanks so much for the chess set," Ron said, taking off his hat and giving it a little shake, "the peices are definately less stubborn than the one's on my old set, they actually don't swear at me when I tell them to move somewhere." Ron let out a nervous laugh, and glanced sideway's to see Hermione's reaction, of which there was none. She was completely confused. Why would Ron not give her a Christmas present and then openly talk about her's? As if there had never been another fight yesterday, as if everything between them was ok, as if she had forgiven him already?

"Umm... well... nice day isn't it?" Ron asked, mentally kicking himself for how pathetic he must sound. _The weather. I'm about to do something which will change my life, and here I am talking about the weather..._

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it's really beautiful, I've always loved winter." An even longer pause ensued. The snowflakes were more frequent and larger, the wind picking up it's pace. Her brown hair blew around wildly and she secured it under her hat, then stood up tentatively and wrapped her scarf around herself tighter. "I think I should go back now," she said, raising her voice so Ron could hear her above the whistling of the wind. "The wind has gotten really strong..."

"No- wait Hermione, please. I want to ask you something," Ron shouted, standing up hurriedly and resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. The sight of Hermione standing there, hiding the hurt she felt expertly, gave him a confidence he never knew he had. Ron had always been able to tell when she was hurt. Even if she didn't utter a single word, even if she acted ordinarily. Her deep brown eyes always betrayed her. And right now one glance, despite her squinting her eyes against the wind, showed her disappointment.

Ron took a deep breath and began before he had too much time to think about his next words. Now, Ron, now, he said to himself, and opened his mouth. "I... I wanted to give you this, and I'm sorry it took so long. I hoped it would have been more special if I gave it to you myself..." his voice faltered and he busied himself by fumbling in his pocket and taking out a small, blue velvet box. He reached out and held Hermione's hand tentatively, and quickly closed the distance between themselves.

Hermione's eyes became slightly wider, though Ron couldn't tell whether it was out of surprise or because his body was now shielding the wind from her face. "Oh... thank you, Ron, I had thought... oh, I don't know what I had thought..." she smiled lopsidedly. Opening the box delicately, her smile widened when she saw the small silver ring on a thin sliver chain.

Ron took it out of the box and laid it on her palm. They were both dressed in too many layers for him to try putting it on.

Hermione looked at it intently, running a finger over the tiny jewel in the center of the ring- a snowflake. "Thank you," she said. "Does it by any chance... symbolize anything?" she dared to ask suggestively. Knowing Ron, it would take him another hour to get to the point without prior encouragement.

Ron blushed ever so slightly, but his voice was deep and steady. "Yes, in fact, it does. Hermione, you have to trust me; everything I say now, I'm saying truthfully and from the bottom of my heart." He smiled at her, clumsily taking both of her gloved hands into his own. "I know I've said many things to you which have been insensitive of me, but I'm new to this. I just want you to know that I wish- I wish I could take it all back, all the times I've caused you annoyance or frustration or... or tears, and replace it with your laughter," he looked dejected for a moment, but then took a deep breath and continued. Hermione listened, a hidden smile on her face at hearing how much he regretted those times.

Ron's tone grew very genuine and serious. "I want you to know that you mean everything to me. Harry, the Order, my family... they are all stuff I should be thankful for. But to imagine it all without you... I- I just can't. That's why I'm terrified about this upcoming war. Not afraid for myself, but desperately afraid for you, the one I... love," his voice shook a little on the final syllable, but he didn't drop his gaze from hers.

Hermione could practically hear her inner sigh of contentment, so loud she feared for a moment she had sighed aloud. She squeezed his hands. "It'll take more than a couple of Unforgivables to finish me off Ron, don't worry so badly," she joked, but Ron grimaced and his face looked pained.

"Don't say that, please, Hermione," he whispered, then in one swift movement, held her in a huge embrace. The wind suddenly blew Ron's scarf right into her face, and it would have been pretty awkward if Hermione had tried to shake it off with her hands pinned to Ron's chest. But she smiled into the woolly smell and inhaled deeply.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, pulling her gently away.

Hermione shook her head. "Mm.. nothing." After a few seconds of utter silence, Ron put his hands on her face and brushed a brown curl behind her ear.

"I've wasted an amazing amount of time. But I've come to my senses and... I know I desperately want this. Please, I... I want you to marry me. Will you?" her asked, firmly but with the tone of someone which such desperation, Hermione thought, that it was like he'd collapse under a refusal. "I know it may seem too early, but with this war, we don't know what'll happen. And what seems too early in other circumstances may in fact be way too late..." he breathed, eyes questioning.

Hermione let out a high-pitched exclamation of surprise which she knew she'd recall with embarassment for years to come.

Ron laughed and his eyes sparkled. "I'm judging that's a...?"

Hermione cleared her throat and composed herself. "Well... I suppose that can pass for an indication of... agreement, don't you?" she sighed and grinned.

"It's good enough for me," Ron said softly, gratefully, so dizzy with happiness he felt intoxicated. Then he let out a groan of annoyance, and Hermione looked up, worried.

"Mum's going to be _unbearable_ about it all... I'm half thinking we should elope just to spare her all the fussing..." Ron buried his face in her hair in despair and Hermione giggled. They trudged back through what was now a fierce blizzard, brushing snowflakes off eachother's faces.


End file.
